


the retraining of the tongue

by QueenVeeples (CherubHope)



Series: the gift of gab [1]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Adam Gets Chosen, Commissioned Work, Hurt/Comfort, LT Romance, M/M, Post-Vampirism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28010883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherubHope/pseuds/QueenVeeples
Summary: Kai's tongue still remembers the taste of food, still craves it. It's not the only thing it remembers.
Relationships: Detective/Adam du Mortain, Male Detective/Adam du Mortain
Series: the gift of gab [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051616
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	the retraining of the tongue

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively titled: how to train your newly turned vampire into enjoying food again
> 
> a commission for my dear friend @lilas on tumblr.

_Warehouse Kitchen_  
—

Every nerve in Kai’s body felt like it stood taut, ready to snap at the slightest twitch. It was like his body was readying itself for the onslaught laid out before him, an attack of his own doing. A simple apple never looked so menacing than in this moment. The light bouncing off its skin - God, he could see each little gold and orange freckle on its surface - seemed more like a perilous crook of a finger, luring him to just sink his teeth in.

He knew in his mind what an apple should taste like. Sweet, a touch tart. Crisp. A simple and raw flavor. This should be easy.

Scowling, he grabbed the apple and tore into its flesh. The juice that burst in his mouth immediately overwhelmed his taste buds: it was too sweet, too cloying on his tongue, made worse by the strange bitterness lacing through. Kai spit out the offending chunk into the sink with a disgusted hurl.

An amused snort caught his attention from flushing his mouth with water.

“I take it that the apple bested your senses.” 

Adam stood in the doorway, arms crossed loosely over his chest. One eyebrow was cocked at Kai’s bent over form. “Surely you would know that you cannot simply bite into a food the way you did when you were human, Kai. You will taste even the metals and salt in the water used to wash it.”

“I know that!” Kai snapped back, rubbing hard at the water running down his chin. “I thought if it was something simple, like a stupid apple, I could take it.”

Frustrated sadness edged in at the end, despite Kai trying to bury it. Concern flickered across Adam’s green eyes. Adam stepped forward, resting his hand lightly on his lower back.

“I know the loss of this has been difficult for you, Kai. As with anything, a plan can be made, but it will take time.” A sympathetic half-smile softened Adam’s sharp features for a moment before falling back to its usual stern mouth expression. “It is possible for you to learn to quiet your senses.”

“Can you help me?” Kai swallowed. “You drink wine. You’ve even tasted some of the food I’ve made. Surely you know how to do it.”

Adam’s brow furrowed in thought. “I… cannot help you in this endeavor, Kai. I would not be the best teacher in this.” Tension tugged Adam’s shoulders to a tight square. “You could find no better teacher for this than Nate, though.”

The idea of Nate still twinged, painful and aching, somewhere deep in the pit of Kai’s stomach. In his heart, he knew Nate wouldn’t hesitate to help him if Kai asked. Nate would work with him, for as long as he needed, until Kai could savor the flavor of food again. Even if the proximity would be difficult.

Kai drew in a slow, deep drag of air and nodded, jaw stiff. “Right.”

Warehouse Dining Room, Weeks Later

—

Excitement had Kai bouncing his foot up and down, his ponytail flopping against his neck with each roll. Several weeks ago he’d asked Nate, ignoring the deep twinge cutting through his gut, if he would teach him to calm his heightened vampiric sense of taste. Nate agreed, and they set out at an agonizingly slow pace at Nate’s insistence. Nate’s teaching felt like a gentle guiding hand at his back, firm at Kai’s frustrations when he struggled against the parsing out individual smells and tastes and proud each time Kai could take tiny bites of buttered bread and salted grapefruit without spitting it out.

Now, after arguing with Nate that he was ready, that he should be given the chance to at least try, Nate agreed he could dip his toes in something harder. A prepared meal with multiple ingredients. Something Kai had been craving since he’d turned into a vampire.

_Omurice._

Even after Nate relented, he insisted on cooking the dish himself. According to Nate, cooking would come with its own overwhelming sensations and he wanted Kai to focus on processing all the flavors he’d be assaulted with together into something cohesive.

Kai wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t disappointed he couldn’t cook it himself. 

Besides, Nate touching his shoulders and asking him to trust him with the cooking had him wanting to flee the kitchen anyway so he could calm the rapid fire beat of his heart.

Finally, Nate emerged with a steaming plate. Nate’s smile widened into a pleased grin with the way Kai’s eyes grew to the side of dinner plates when Nate settled the dish in front of him. The food certainly looked attractive with the bright yellow omelette and the masterful squiggle of ketchup on the top. A few clumps of rice and a chunk of chicken poked out of the seam teasingly.

It looked appetizing. It looked familiar. But the smell, god, it was so much stronger than he thought it would be. Kai frowned. Nate’s teachings echoed in his head. Notice the first scents, but don’t linger on them. Find something that tied it all together. Breathe shallowly first, then deeper as he acclimated. 

The ketchup, of all things, hit him hardest. Nate chose a simple ketchup, one without preservatives or extras, but the sharp tang stabbed the air and his nose. Beyond the ketchup, the stink of the onion and meatiness of the chicken screamed out too, demanding his attention. Quieter still the grassiness of the peas and the creamy egginess in the omelette also whispered their presence. It was like a battle, a cacophonous screaming match of salt and tang and sweet. His body stiffened against the assault, as if trying to steel himself against each offensive note. 

Nate slid into the chair next to him, his deep brown eyes soft with concern. The fingers resting on his shoulder snapped Kai’s attention away from the dish with a rush of tingles radiating out from Nate’s hand. 

God, even just looking at Nate calmed his nerves. Just letting himself revel in the depths of his gorgeous brown eyes felt like a warm compress against bruised skin. Kai swallowed the thought away thickly.

“Don’t spend too much time on your first impression, Kai.” Nate murmured, staring intently into Kai’s hazel eyes. “Each scent is distinct, yes, but less so than you think. They bleed into each other. You can follow that trail.”

“I know, I tried Nate, don’t you think I did?” Kai grit his teeth, voice tinged lightly with desperation. “The ketchup is stronger than I thought it would be. It’s hard to ignore...”

“Believe me, I know that you are trying, Kai. You have been nothing but brilliant during these past few weeks. As always, you have never failed to impress me with your tenacity.” Nate’s eyes sparkled with open admirement, his words strong without a trace of doubt in them. “You are frustrated. I understand that. Try to dig further into the smell of the ketchup. There’s onion powder in it, isn’t there?”

Kai nodded along, his grimace falling to open mouthed understanding. “Right, and there’s cooked onion in the rice… more ketchup, too. If I can follow that trail…”

“Then you may be able to get past it. Take your time, Kai.” Nate’s voice dropped, the words low and intimate. “You can do this.”

Nate’s fingers squeezed his shoulders once, then fell away. The tingling sensation lingered, as did Nate’s eyes on his face. The line that remained between them sparked dangerously, threatening to draw him in close, forsaking the omurice and chasing Nate’s warmth to its source. 

With a quiet, shuddering breath, Nate broke their eye contact finally and settled deeper into his chair. His voice came out a little strained. “Go on, then. Close your eyes. Limit your distractions.”

 _As if my biggest distraction weren’t sitting mere inches away from me…_ Kai thought, casting solemn eyes back to the omurice. Still, he followed Nate’s advice and shut his eyes. The omurice prevailed, unsurprising. Kai took in a short, shallow breath; the ketchup came first, just as strong as before. Kai held it against the back of his throat until it mellowed a bit, the sourness of the vinegar bleeding away to reveal the slight tang of the tomatoes and dry bite of the onion powder. 

Another breath.

More of the ketchup, but past the ketchup on top, he could parse out the deeper ketchup smell in the cooked rice. The onion in the ketchup echoed the freshly cooked onion in the rice, and past even that, the meatiness of the chicken faded into the lighter savory notes in the egg. 

Only one thing fought still against the scents slowly melding together. It was the smell of sunshine right after a spring rain and of old, worn leather and the musk of books. And try as he might, the smell of Nate persisted and refused to fade into the background.

“Nate,” Kai opened his eyes. “I keep smelling you. I can’t _stop_ from smelling you.”

Pained understanding flashed across Nate’s eyes. Nate hid it quickly with a small, tense smile. “Yes, that does make some sense. I’ll step out so that you may focus.”

Kai wanted to stare after Nate’s retreating back, wanted to release the plea gathered behind his lips to stay. He wanted to feel Nate’s hand on his shoulder again, just for a second.

Instead, Kai turned back to the cooling omurice with a shuddering sigh.

 _Outside the Dining Room_  
—

Seeing Adam outside the dining room was unsurprising. It seemed to be an inescapable fate that wherever Kai was concerned, both he and Adam would not be but paces away.

Nate did his best to offer Adam a convincing smile. From the frown tugging at Adam’s lips, he apparently missed his mark. “He’s doing well for his first complex dish. I would give him a few minutes before you check in on him.”

“Of course.” Adam nodded sharply. His lips pursed, a clear sign of a thought Adam was struggling to decide was worth voicing or not. Nate lingered. “I… am grateful that he’s had you to teach him. He has clearly missed the experience of food more than anticipated.”

“I’m happy to help, Adam. You know that.” Despite it all, Nate couldn’t stop the smile that rose to his face. “You don’t need to thank me for something like this, Adam. Not when it comes to Kai’s happiness.”

A heavy, but not uncomfortable, silence blanketed over him and Adam. The tension in Adam’s shoulders slowly slipped over the course of a few seconds until his shoulders finally sagged fractionally.

“He also values your happiness, Nate. As do I.” Adam turns to face the doors and stares past them. “I would not want to see you put yourself in a situation that is difficult for you.”

Nate raised a hand, which instantly silences Adam. “This is not difficult for me Adam. I understand and accept our circumstances. I won’t run from being Kai’s friend.” Nate’s words soften to a ragged whisper. “I could never, Adam.”

Adam’s hand came up briefly to his shoulder. Their eyes meet, Nate perfectly reflected in Adam’s green eyes, and the unspoken _I know_ buzzes so loudly between them Nate doesn’t know if he hears it in Adam’s voice or his own.

The moment passes, and Nate leaves with the thought that he hopes to hear what Kai thinks of the omurice flavor.


End file.
